


Eggs Over Easy

by Sometimes_I_Write_Things



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Egg Laying, M/M, Oviposition, Pale-Red Vacillation, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:17:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sometimes_I_Write_Things/pseuds/Sometimes_I_Write_Things
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kankri finally allows himself to indulge in a rather strange kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eggs Over Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by practicedapathy

The position in which you now find yourself is not one you are unfamiliar to; on your back and legs spread for the seadweller troll hovering over you. It is not a bad position to be in, actually. You’ve come to associate this position with impending pleasure courtesy of one Cronus Ampora. Despite all that, you’re a bit unnerved when Cronus makes to remove your clothes.

“Cronus, I…”

He sighs, an exasperated sound that makes you huff at him. Surely he must be thin on patience by now with how many times you’ve stopped to reconsider things. You are a bit nervous, taking such a big step and all. You’ve decided to indulge Cronus in finally let him lay his eggs inside you, having grown hungry for a little something more risque in your relationship. Being able to deposit eggs is a rare trait, typically only seen in highbloods. Even so, the eggs do nothing for reproductive purposes ever since the introduction of the Mother Grub. The act of egg laying became something more of a kink over time, something more recreational. You had extensive knowledge of how it would all work, how to be safe and the protocol should anything go wrong, but textbooks are a poor substitute for experience. And that’s what frightens you a little.

It took a lot of coaxing on Cronus’ part to get you to actually move from simply speculating and discussing to actually going through with the act. Naturally, you were slow moving and reluctant, but Cronus kissed and caressed you until you were practically melting at how tenderly he handled you.

“C’mon chief, you still not sure about this?”

“I… I simply want to take this slow, Cronus. I am certainly not backing out. We had an agreement and discussed it thoroughly, but-

“And yet, you’re still discussin’ about it.”

You give a bit of a frown at the interruption and open your mouth to reprimand the seadweller, but the words die in your throat as his cool fingers slip between your legs and pets at your nook through your leggings. He touches you so gentle and sweet, pulling soft sounds from your lips as you fight to keep your hips still. Damn him and those wonderfully skilled fingers of his. He could get you to cum with just his fingers in your nook in the past, gently pressing and stroking your inner walls until you would release slow and easy. It is thoughts of those past times that have your cheeks flushing a brighter shade of red than you already were. After much mental effort to wrangle your thoughts into some semblance of coherence, you attempt again to scold your matesprit.

“It is… quite rude to interrupt, Cronus.”

“Sorry babe.”

Cronus’ apology doesn’t sound very remorseful to your ears, but you haven’t long to think on the matter before Cronus begins to peel your leggins and underwear down your gray legs. He leaves your sweater, for which you are most grateful. You feel a little silly for it, but you’d rather keep your sweater on despite knowing you’ll most likely be making quite a mess on it. It is comforting for you and Cronus doesn’t seem to mind since he knows it makes you just a bit more at ease. You make a small sound at Cronus’ expression as he looks at your bare groin, licking his lips and narrowing his eyes as he gazes upon you. It makes you flush red up to your ears and you scrunch your neck down into your sweater to hide it. It’s a pointless thing to do; Cronus sees you blushing anyway. He always sees.

“I don’t know why you’re hidin’ babe. You look cute when you’re all flustered for me.”

Cronus pulls down the collar of your sweater with a finger, revealing your red face to him before he bends down to capture your lips in a kiss. You find you quite enjoy kissing. It’s almost as good as pailing, if not better. Less mess and all. The way Cronus’ cool tongue slides against yours as he molds and moves his lips against your own and you just melt. In an effort to get closer, you wrap your arms around the seadweller’s neck and press up against him, the action causing you to spread your legs wider as you try and reach deeper into Cronus’ mouth with your tongue.

Cronus makes this low rumble in his chest that makes your whole body tingle, for you know just what that sound means. It means he wants you and it is an oh so intoxicating feeling being wanted so fiercely. It is only when he breaks the kiss that you realize he prevented you from retorting to his little compliment. He knows you so well, well enough to knew the best ways to derail your thoughts and silence you. You make a small sound of protest when he pulls away, clinging to him and trying to pull his mouth back to yours, but Cronus flashes you a smirk and pries your hands away.

“C’mon, Kanny. As much as I’d love to taste that pretty mouth of yours all night, I think we ought to move things on a little.”

“Yes… Yes, you’re right Cronus. We should… proceed.”

Cronus’ brow furrows as he notices your reluctance. You feel a little bad for holding things up because you truly do want to experience this with him. You do, really. It’s just, there’s still that little voice whispering in your thinkpan about everything that could go wrong. What if the eggs get stuck? What if there’s so many that something inside you will rupture? What if- “Hey now,” Cronus says softly as puts a cold palm against your cheek. Just that simple contact has your full attention on him and if it weren’t for the way he’s tracing your kiss-swollen lips with his thumb and you’re naked from the waist down, this interaction could be mistaken for pale. “You know I’m not gonna make you do anythin’ you don’t wanna. You know that right? We can just do it how we usually do, or stop even, if that’s what you want.”

“No no, I… I want this. I really do I just, I’m a little… scared is all.”  
“I got you, chief. I’m not gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. You let me know if anything feels wrong, and I’ll stop. I promise.”

There is such intense sincerity in your matesprit’s expression that you simply just /have/ to lurch up and kiss him again. The way he cares for you, how he wants to keep you safe and protected makes you ache in the pit of your stomach. It feels so incredibly pale between you two for only the slightest moment until the brightest, reddest pity floods through you. You’re so very touched by his tenderness and uncharacteristic patience with you that even if you feel a bit of a pale vibe coming from him, you find yourself wanting to please him in ways that appeal to your primal instincts.

As you kiss each other fiercely and passionately, Cronus works to divest himself of his pants. You help him out of his shirt, having to break the kiss for the brief moment it takes to lift the garment over and off his head before he dives right back in for your mouth. His bulge licks at your nook, flicking up up and down the slit sharply as he kisses you breathless. You feed him your gasps and low moans, tilting your hips up and spreading your legs wider in an invitation for him to come inside. Pulling back, Cronus sucks your tongue from your mouth and gives it a little nibble, earning him a shameless chirr from you before he releases it and takes his bulge in his fist.

“You ready?”

“Yes. Please, yes. Put it inside!”

It is rather uncanny how making out can get you riled up so easily. Your mouth happens to be a rather prominent erogenous zone, as Cronus discovered (much to his delight). Already, your bulge is out and squirming timidly against your thigh and your nook flutters greedily. Cronus bites his lip and keeps his half-lidded eyes on you as he feeds the tip of his violet appendage into your waiting nook. You make a tight, uncomfortable noise in your throat as you’re stretched around his writhing length, a stinging burn lighting up your insides as it always does at first. Your matesprit slows as he watches your face contort, easing his way inside inch by inch until his hips meet yours. When he emits a deep purr at finally being completely enveloped in your tight heat, you let out an involuntary, breathy trill. You’re so full of him already, stretched deliciously and tantalized by the cold flesh chilling your feverish nook, and you’re only going to be stretched further soon.

Despite what your reluctance may lead one to believe, you absolutely adore having your nook stuffed to the brim. It’s almost terrifying how much you love it, your fantasies taking you to places that would surely be damaging. One could say you were simply wary of your own desires, for there would be no way you could live through half of the things you think up.

When Cronus starts to move, he keeps it slow and steady, just rolling his hips and curling his back inwards in an easy rhythm that you can easily match with your own uprolling hips. Sweet sighs and soft chirps leave you as his bulge curls and rubs over all your sweetest spots, making your nook wetten further and clench. Cronus emits another one of those deep, purring sounds and picks up the pace, rolling his bulge inside you and making your breath hitch at the intensified pleasure.

This slow, gently pailing continues on for a while, gently pleasing as your walls begin to fully relax and hunger for more of that wonderful stretch. You start to make this small, desperate little sounds, canting your hips up against Cronus in a plea for more. Cronus gives a shaky chuckle at your antics and leans back, gazing down at where you two are connected and groaning at the sight. He pins your thighs to the coupling platform, keeping you spread wide for him as he picks up the pace, much to your relief. It’s an improvement, but still not enough. You don’t feel full enough. You need more!

“Get ready, chief. Fuck, here it comes…”

Just as you’re about to make what would most likely be the most shameful whimper, you feel it, a swelling pressing at the opening of your nook. You sink your claws into the sheets and throw your head back with the neediest sound you’ve ever heard yourself emit. Cronus pulls his hips back, much to your dismay, and you’re about to start squalling at him until he thrusts back inside. The swelling pops inside you and you keen, tense up and shake at the extra girth pressing at your inner walls. When Cronus pulls back once again, the swelling remains where it is inside you, your tight insides squeezing the lump down your matesprit’s bulge. He thrusts back inside, the swelling stretching the deepest parts of your nook as it shoves inside along with Cronus’ bulge. When Cronus pulls back one more time, the egg deposits in you and Cronus shudders and gives a shivering moan.

Your nook is stretched around the orb in the tightest part of your depths, making you shake and curl your toes. You can feel your pulse in your nook, right up against where the egg is deposited and every time your nook contracts, it forces the egg to press harder into your walls. You hardly have time to revel in that single point of delicious burn when Cronus pushes back inside you with a groan, another egg already pressing up against your stretched hole. You writhe and arch and croon for him as he thrusts in and out of you a little faster than last time, laying the egg inside you right along the first one.

It continues on like this for what seems to be an eternity (albeit a heavenly eterinity), egg after egg filling up the depths of your sopping nook to the point that your belly is distended under your sweater. You have tears trickling out the corners of your eyes at the perfect pain-pleasure of it all. Cronus wipes away your tears when he’s not enthralled by the eggs coming faster and faster from his bulge, two or three squeezing down the length at the simultaneously at some points. The eggs press and jostle on your stretched-taut walls whenever Cronus moves, sending sharp sparks of sensation skittering up your spine and making your bulge coil in on itself.

After it’s all over, Cronus has laid… you’ve lost count after seven. It feels like a hundred with how bloated you are and it’s just so perfect. So very perfect. You didn’t think it could get any better until Cronus stopped thrusting and went back to grinding, his bulge lashing inside you and slathering over the eggs. You can’t hardly moan as loud as you can feel yourself urging to, everything so full and taut inside you that you don’t think you could afford to breath any deeper than the shallow pants and gasps you’re doing. It doesn’t take much longer for Cronus to finish, burying himself in your stuffed nook as far as he could go and coating the eggs with his royal violet. The cool goo is a pleasant shock of sensation, making you coo and click as your belly swells just a bit more.

You try to tell him you’re okay when he pulls out, to reassure him when he rubs over your expanded belly and manages to look a bit worried through the sated expression he’s wearing. All you can manage is a series of weak, shaking chirrs, feeling much too full and oh so very good. Cronus looks at you for a few moments, simply watching for any signs of pain or misery in your body language or expression. When all he finds is your deliriously pleasured face and your wanton hip-rolling, he purrs at you and lays next to you, wrapping his cold hand around your neglected bulge and tugging on it firm and slow. You squeak at that and try to thrust up into his hand, trying to get more of that delicious friction that would send you over into perfect bliss, but you can hardly manage just weak bucks and twitches. You’re just too heavy, too much weighing you down that you’re forced to simply lie there and accept the sensations over taking your body.

It’s when Cronus gives your bulge a tight squeeze that you release, bulge erupting with your bright crimson and staining your thighs and sweater. You don’t scream out in ecstasy like you want, the pleasure so intense that your mouth can only gape wide open as your voice manages a click or two of what would have been a raw, lustful sound. Your nook contracts violently, a few eggs slipping out at the powerful muscles pushing down on the contents inside. You give a little squeak at each little *pop* the eggs make when they leave your nook. The orbs inside you jostle with each spasm of pleasure overtaking your body, prolonging your orgasm to what seems to be hours when it probably was only half of a minute.

When you finally do come down, Cronus kisses all over your face, purring and murmuring sweet words at you as you bask in the afterglow. You’re purring contently as he showers you with affection, wanting to just lay here forever and feel loved for the rest of your life. However, the weight in your belly along with the sticky mess all over you eventually pulls you from your post-coital glow. Cronus notices how you shift and squirm uncomfortably and sits you up in his lap.

He helps you push out all the eggs, one by one they leave you as he massages your abdomen and kisses your neck. It’s a tiring feat, expelling the orbs from your body over the span of an hour. You were sure to go slow, not wanting to cause any damage by just having them shoot out of you. When you’re finally empty, you’re exhausted and sticky and you just want to be clean and sleep with your matesprit. You tell him so and Cronus has a moment of selfishness where he cuddles with you while wallowing in the mess you two made. You manage to put up enough of a fuss, even in your tired state, and Cronus gives up on trying to get you to just fall asleep then and there. He cleans you tenderly and diligently and you attempt to do the same for him. He ends up cleaning himself up for you, saying, “You’re too pailed out of your mind to do anythin’ but sit there and let me take care of you, babe.” You couldn’t really argue that fact, so you let him tend to you until you were both clean and comfortably floating in the slime together, drifting off with ponderings on when your nook will be ready for Cronus to lay his eggs and you again. You do hope it’s soon.


End file.
